Max Schweitzer's Horribly Bad No Good Rotten Day
by bumblebuzz
Summary: Have the Germans finally managed to capture the infamous Papa Bear?
1. The Magnificent General von Baer

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Hogan's Heroes, and no infringement is intended._

  
  
**Max Schweitzer's Horribly Bad No Good Rotten Day**   
  


"Schweitzer! Get in here!"

  
Lieutenant Max Schweitzer leapt to his feet to answer his commander's call. He dashed to the inner office to find Major Bergmann frantically shuffling through maps, charts, lists, nearly every bit of information they'd collected over the past five months.

  
"I can't find the bridge map!" Bergmann spit out as he tossed papers to and fro. Fighting the surge of panic that had been threatening to consume him all day, Max took a deep breath and began to methodically collect the papers strewn about Bergmann's office.

  
"Here you go, Sir." Max gingerly handed the slightly rumpled maps to the Major. "This map shows the locations and dates of the bridges destroyed in the past six months. This one here shows all the bridges in the area and their current status."

  
Bergmann tossed him a grateful look, which Max found more frightening than reassuring. Max began to slowly creep from the room when he heard a mangled cry and turned to see the Major banging his head against the wall. "How could I forget?" Bergmann cursed himself.

  
Usually able to anticipate the Major's wishes, Max simply could not fathom what information Bergmann was trying to pound out of his skull. He tried not to stare as a red splotch began to appear on the Major's forehead.

  
"Um, Sir, can I help you find something else?" Max stammered, hoping his interruption would stop the Major's bashing. Today was not the day to have to deal with a commander with a self-inflicted concussion.

  
"The eyewitness reports! We need to collate the eyewitness reports with the official damage reports of the sabotaged factories." Bergmann looked wildly about the room, as if the eyewitnesses themselves were about to appear. "Then cross-reference those with the secret research facilities…" Bergmann trailed off. "There's just no time," Bergmann pulled a few patches of hair from his skull as he fell despondent into his chair.

  
"Don't worry, Sir! We'll pull it together in time." Max tried to sound as if he believed it, but the truth was, there really wasn't enough time. They were in big trouble. "I'll put together the most recent reports. That should give the General a good overview of what we're dealing with."

  
Not really expecting a confirmation from the Major beyond the grunt of approval he thought he heard, Max made his retreat to the front office. Momentarily overwhelmed, Max stood lost behind the desk where he had spent so many innumerable hours over the past five months. 

  
The piercing ring of the telephone snapped Max back to reality. "Kampfgruppe Bergmann, Lieutenant Schweitzer speaking. Heil Hitler," he answered by rote. The thunderous barking that followed forced Max to pull the phone away from his ear. An impending visit from the Gestapo: another cherry to top off this treat of a day.

  
"Yes Major Hochstetter. The prisoner is ready whenever you wish to come for him. No, Major. He had no papers on him. He claimed he left them at home… Yes, we did realize that was suspicious. That is why we proceeded to detain him." Max fought to refrain from rolling his eyes. They'd been through all of this before. "Yes, he has dark hair. An American? No, I don't think so. He spoke German like a native. He said his name was Hans Bricker, a local cobbler." 

  
Barely listening to another bout of ranting, Max was stunned to see a large staff car screech to a halt in front of the Kampfgruppe Headquarters. Distracted, he quickly ended the conversation, "We look forward to your arrival Herr Major." Squinting intently out the window, Max didn't realize he'd already hung up the phone as he muttered an obligatory "Heil Hitler."

  
Max's heart sank when he recognized the ominous black uniform of a Sicherheitsdienst General. He scrambled to open the door for their guest, but only managed to knock over his chair, scatter some papers, and stub his toe on the filing cabinet. 

  
The SD General burst into the office, imperiously stomping towards the poor befuddled Lieutenant, all the while waving a riding crop smacking anything within range. Though not much taller than Max, the General seemed to tower over him. The officer loomed in so close that a wicked-looking scar, interrupted by a black leather eye patch, was all Max could see.

  
"General von Baer?" Max squeaked. He found himself wondering if their headquarters was large enough to contain the presence of this man.

  
"Who else would I be?" von Baer arched the eyebrow over his one good eye.

  
"You… you're early, Herr General! We weren't expecting you until… well, um…when your aide called this morning, he said…"

  
"I am not early!" von Baer erupted, "I always arrive at the exact moment I intend to arrive! Understood, Lieutenant?" 

  
Max struggled to lower the pitch of his voice. "Absolutely Sir, completely Sir, without a single doubt in my mind Sir! You are right on time, Sir!"

  
Stepping back and smacking the desk with his riding crop, the General bellowed, "Enough pleasantries! Gather the officers together!" Another slap, this time abusing a small potted plant: "I wish to meet," slap "with them," slap "at once!" Slap slap!

  
Max waited until the General grew weary of slapping the unfortunate plant, and tactfully cleared his throat. "This way to the conference room, Herr General." Max motioned across the hall. 

  
Upon entering the large room the General stopped so abruptly, Max had to execute a fancy little two-step to avoid colliding into him. The General then proceeded to turn to face the length of the room and ever so slowly raise his arms out from his sides. What in Wodan's name was the General doing now? Max realized his mouth was hanging open, and shut it with a click of his jaw.

  
"My coat!" huffed von Baer impatiently, not deigning to meet Max's eyes.

  
Max mouthed an "Oh!" and quickly helped the General remove his coat. "Please have a seat, General." Max tried his best to be gracious. "Major Bergmann will be with you momentarily." Max ducked from the room, hung the coat by his desk, and as soon as he was sure he was out of the General's line of sight, took off on a mad dash for Major Bergmann's office.

  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  


Returning from his frantic run through the halls of their Kampfgruppe Headquarters, Max paused briefly to catch his breath. Then, nonchalantly strolling into the conference room, he was relieved to see the Kampfgruppe's officers sitting attentively, all trying desperately to not look the least bit nervous. Sliding into a seat next to a heavily perspiring Major Bergmann, Max caught a glimpse of who he assumed was the General's aide, a diminutive Captain a full head shorter than the General. Exchanging a few whispered words with von Baer, the Captain glared daggers across the room, then left, slamming the door behind him.

  
"Tell me, Major Bergmann," General von Baer's single-eyed stare jolted Bergmann to sit up even straighter. "What exactly is your mission here?" Max's eyes followed the General's riding crop as it bowed up, and then down, up and then down.

  
"Sir, we were to establish a task force to protect the factories, bridges and important military sites from the region's unusually high concentration of sabotage. Also, we were to root out and capture the saboteurs and dismantle the underground network, Sir!" Max was surprised to hear the Major supply such an articulate reply.

  
"And why, Major, do you think I have come all the way to this blackened coal pit of a town?"

  
Max heard a loud gulp come from the Major. This was the question to which they all feared the answer. 

  
Five months ago Berlin had charged Major Bergmann to set up this Kampfgruppe in Kohlenhausen, a small gloomy town not too far from Hammelburg and central to a hotbed of sabotage activity. Day after day they followed a trail of blown up factories and bridges and supposedly secret military installations. But no matter their preparation, they could never seem to get a step ahead of the saboteurs, much less uncover the apparent mastermind behind them all.

  
As the weeks began to pass, Major Bergmann became convinced their lack of success would send him on a return trip to the Russian Front. Constantly reliving his previous experience there, the Major slowly crumbled into a nervous wreck, leaving most of the organizational responsibilities to Max.

  
"I assumed to check on our progress, Sir." 

  
"NO!" The General spun around and smacked Bergmann on his already much abused forehead. Von Baer looked about the room making sure he had everyone's complete attention, as if it were possible he didn't, then continued: "I am sure you have all heard of the infamous Papa Bear, yes?" 

  
Max leaned in closer. Now this could be interesting! Papa Bear was the rumored leader of the underground whose exploits had reached near mythic proportions. Max would never admit it to anyone, but secretly he dreamed of meeting the mysterious leader. If even half the tales were true, the man was a hero in Max's eyes, regardless of which side of the battle he fought.

  
"What if I were to tell you," the General opined, "that this very minute," he raised his arms high, "in this very building," his voice lowered to a growl, "the Papa Bear hides," his fists slammed down hard against the table causing them all to jump, "in plain sight!"

  
The room erupted to a cacophony of astonishment and disbelief. Major Bergmann was first to be heard over the din. "You mean the prisoner we captured last night? HE is the Papa Bear?"

  
Bergmann's rare moment of fortitude shriveled under the General's intense scrutiny. Von Baer then swept the room with his steely gaze. "I have it on good authority that Papa Bear is here among you." His riding crop shook with righteous indignation. "Perhaps it is one of you who are traitor to the glorious Third Reich." Once again the room descended into a clamor of murmurings and denials.

  
"Enough!" The General roared. "My men have surrounded the area, and are conducting a thorough search. He will be in our hands soon enough. My throat is dry. Bring me coffee."

  
It was a moment before Max's brain registered the General's demand for coffee. It took another moment to realize the General's eye was staring directly at him. Max leapt for the door, but one of his tunic's buttons caught on Major Bergmann's chair, ripping his pocket and slamming him back into his seat. Fumbling to untangle himself, he sputtered, "Right away, Sir!" and scampered from the room. 

  
  
  
  



	2. Franz is Hungry

  
  
As Max bustled about readying coffee for the General, he tried to calm his nerves with sun-soaked memories of his bucolic youth. He was so absorbed in his meanderings through edelweiss-littered meadows that he was startled to find a bespectacled young man standing amiably next to his desk.

  
"Er, excuse me?" Max interrupted the newcomer's intense scrutiny of a crack in the floor.

  
His visitor's face burst into an infectious grin, delighted to have been noticed. "I'm looking for my brother!" he chirped.

  
"I'm sorry, but you shouldn't be here," Max explained, trying to herd the man towards the door.

  
"But Herr Fenstermacher said I should look here. Hans didn't come home last night, and he always comes home, even though sometimes it's kinda late. He's busy you know, but he always makes it home before morning. So that's why he makes me dinner before he leaves, just in case he gets home late, so I'm not waiting up hungry."

  
Max was completely lost. "Herr Fensterwho? What? Who's Hans?"

  
"Hans is my brother! I'm Franz! Hans and Franz Bricker." Franz was veritably beaming. "It's kinda neat how it rhymes like that, isn't it? I've always liked that. Hans and Franz. Hans and Franz. Makes it easy to remember."

  
"Wait, wait, wait." Max was waving his hands and shaking his head, trying to jar some sense into this mess. "Hans Bricker is your brother?"

  
"Ja! Do you know him? Is he here?" Franz was bouncing up and down like an overactive puppy. "He's a little taller than me, but he has darker hair. Mine is more blond." He raised his cap to prove his point. "It gets really blond in the summer, you should see! Hans definitely looks more like papa. But he has mama's green eyes." Franz scrunched up his face in boyish earnestness. "Oh, I don't mean he really has mama's eyes. Ew! That would be gross wouldn't it! Messy if you ask me! And where would you keep them?"

  
Max tried getting a better look into the blue eyes of his new best friend, and decided Franz was missing more than a few vital connections upstairs. And why was he so darn chipper?

  
"Look, I'm sorry Franz. The Gestapo is on its way here to pick up your brother." Max picked up a large tray loaded with a coffee pot, cups, and all the accoutrements, anxious over how long he was taking to get back to the General. "You'll have to talk with them." And good luck to them too, Max smirked inside.

  
Leaving Franz behind, Max found himself stuck in front of the conference room door. He was trying to figure out how he would open it with his arms loaded up, when a new voice exploded into the office. "Where is my prisoner?"

  
Max dropped his head to his chest. Speak of the devil.

  
Trying not to sink under the weight of his tray, Max called over his shoulder, "I'll be with you in a moment, Major Hochstetter."

  
"Bah! The Gestapo waits for no one!" Hochstetter marched up to Max and grabbed his arm intent to spin him around. Instead, Hochstetter was greeted with a spray of hot coffee across the front of his uniform.

  
The shock of the scalding liquid splashing across his own front and into his face caused Max to drop the tray. Cups shattered across the floor, coffee spilled everywhere, and Max struggled to resist the urge to drop to his knees and pound his fists against his forehead crying: "Nein, nein, nein!" But then again, maybe Major Bergmann was on to something there.

  
"Aighh! You Dummkopf!" Hochstetter sputtered. Franz ran over and started dabbing Hochstetter's front with reports he'd grabbed from Max's desk. "Bah! Get away from me!" Hochstetter shoved Franz away. "Who is this man?"

  
"I'm Franz!" said Franz, as if this answered all.

  
Heaving a world-weary sigh and ignoring Hochstetter who continued to swat at Franz's bumbling attempts to help, Max knelt down and began cleaning up the broken dishes. 

  
"I came looking for my brother Hans," Franz continued. "Hans Bricker. He's Hans, I'm Franz!"

  
Hochstetter lost a bit of his glower at this news. "Your brother, you say?"

  
"Ja! Ja!" Franz nodded emphatically. "He wasn't home when I woke up this morning and he's always home in the mornings. He makes my breakfast. And he wasn't there this morning, and I got real hungry, so I packed a bunch of food," Franz patted the satchel he had slung over his shoulder, "and thought I would try to find him so he could make me something to eat." 

  
Max was almost enjoying Franz's rambling as he reached for more shards on the floor. Is this guy for real? He found it all a bit hard to believe. He then swatted at the strange incessant tickling on his right ear.

  
Hochstetter tried his awkward best to smile. "And your brother, he is often out late at night?"

  
"Oh yes, Sir. He's always busy. That's why we switched."

  
"Switched?"

  
"Ja! Instead of bedtime stories, he tells me wakeup stories!"

  
"Wakeup stories?" Hochstetter prodded. "Perhaps of his night time activities?"

  
"There's this one he tells about a girl whose brothers are all turned into swans and she has to make them little shirts out of flowers so they will turn back into people." Franz looked to be thinking really hard. Max wondered if he'd ever done that before. "So I don't think that really happened." Franz brightened. "But wouldn't that be neat? Have a magic shirt that would change you into a bird and you could fly around…"

  
Hochstetter was losing his thin wisp of patience. "But your brother, does he tell you where he goes at night?"

  
Franz frowned a little. Max batted again at his ear.

  
"I can never remember. That's why it's been taking me so long to find him today. I've been all over, and with no breakfast and no wakeup story… well, that's not true. I did hear a wakeup story this morning but it didn't make much sense."

  
"I don't care about your breakfast or your precious stories." Hochstetter was beginning to shake. "I want to know where your brother goes!"

  
Franz continued prattling oblivious to veins throbbing on Hochstetter's head. "I overheard two men talking in the Marktplatz and it sounded like they were telling the story of The Three Bears, which is one of my most favorite stories ever…"

  
Both Max and Hochstetter perked up. Could it be? 

  
"And the one man was talking about Papa Bear, and how he had left some packages for the bridge and that there would be a big party tonight. And I remember thinking that was kind of strange, to give presents to a bridge, but maybe it is the bridge's birthday, and I guess that would be really nice of them an' all. But I kept waiting for them to get to the part where Goldilocks comes in, and they never did. And I figured I better find Hans, cause he knows just the right way to tell that story…"

  
"The bridge!" Hochstetter's eyes were ablaze already envisioning the hunt to come. "Did they say which bridge?"

  
" Hmmm. Let me think…" As Franz wandered through, Max supposed, the fairly empty halls of his mind, the tickling to Max's ear grew unbearable. He viciously swatted at the air around the right side of his head and ended up attacking Franz's arm. 

  
Max leapt to his feet rubbing his right ear. "What are you doing?" He glared at Franz's extended finger hovering close to his head. "Have you been tapping my ear?"

  
Franz simply grinned sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. Max shook his head incredulously. He didn't even know how to respond to that

  
But Hochstetter did. He grabbed Franz by the shoulders and through clenched teeth he snarled, "Which… bridge?"  
  
"Oh, um…" A light dawned in Franz's eyes. "The Oelde!" Franz announced quite pleased with himself. "The Oelde Bridge, you know, down by the old mill."

  
Hochstetter released Franz, pushing him into Max. Franz tripped over his own feet and knocked them both to the floor. Hochstetter growled down at Max while shaking a threatening fist, "I will return for my prisoner later." 

  
On his way out, Hochstetter slammed the door with such force that the large portrait of the Fuhrer flew off the wall, landing facedown in a puddle of coffee. 

  
  
  
  



	3. Papa Bear Captured?

  
  
After untangling himself from a horribly uncoordinated Franz, Max tried to take stock of the situation. Maybe the General would have forgotten about the coffee by now? Maybe if he just slipped into the room, no one would notice? Or maybe he should at least take some water?

  
"Hans won't let me do that." Franz interrupted Max's beverage dilemma. Max looked around trying to figure out what Franz could possibly be talking about now when he realized he'd been sucking on two fingers he'd cut on the broken dishes. Stuffing his hand in his pocket, Max tried once again to lead Franz to the front door.

  
"Why don't you come back tomorrow, and we can figure out how to get your brother released," Max offered. He was surprised to find he had developed a small soft spot for this ear-tapping nut.

  
But Franz would not be placated. "But I'm hungry," Franz nearly whined. "Can I just see him for few minutes? Just ten minutes, and Hans can make me something to eat," Franz patted the satchel still slung across his shoulders, "and then I'll leave. Quiet as a mouse! I won't make any trouble!" Franz's eyes were open wide behind his thick glasses, and his lip stuck out in a pout, which Max assumed usually earned him another wakeup story from his brother Hans.

  
Max sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine." Somehow he knew he'd regret this.

  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  


  
Max willed himself invisible as he snuck back into the conference room. He surreptitiously placed a carafe of water and a glass before the General and slid back into his place beside Major Bergmann. Max felt a pang of sympathy for the man. Bergmann was pale and wilted and looked very nearly on the edge of collapse. What could the General have been saying, well, ranting about while he'd been out? Regardless, the General seemed to care little about his liquid refreshment, which suited Max just fine.

  
Bergmann leaned over casually yet painfully clutched Max's forearm. "Did you put away the papers?" Bergmann hissed. Max just stared back perplexed. Perhaps he should introduce the Major to Franz.

  
The Major looked even more desperate. "The secret papers! The maps, everything! I left them out in the rush to meet the General. And now with Papa Bear in the building, I'll be court-martialed for sure!"

  
Before Max could reply, he felt a large mass looming over the both of them. "Do you have something you wish to share with the rest of us, Major?" the General grumbled.

  
Max stifled a yelp as Bergmann's vice-grip tightened on his arm.

  
"Just… just how lucky we are that your Generalship and… and your fine men are here to finally capture the despicable, the… the detestable Papa Bear." Bergmann's grimacing attempt at a charming smile had Max ready to fetch the Major a bucket.

  
The General, however, seemed satisfied. "So true, so true, Major Bergmann. At last Papa Bear will be ours, and after sharing his secrets," the General breathed in deep and appeared to have found divine contentment, "he will die a thousand gruesome deaths." His look of utter joy at such horrors sent chills up Max's spine.

  
However, the Major's earlier mention of the General's "fine men" sparked Max's curiosity. Not once during his Hochstetter-induced coffee catastrophe or his delivery of Franz to his brother for a much-bemoaned meal did Max recall seeing a single sign of these "fine men" combing the building. What was going on out there? But before he got a chance to continue his speculating, von Baer's aide burst into the room.

  
The little man trotted to von Baer's side and whispered what had to be good news judging by the enormous feral grin that unfurled across the General's face. The Captain left as quickly as he arrived, and the General stood beaming at the front of the room.

  
"Gentlemen, I have excellent news! We have captured the Papa Bear!"

  
A collective gasp coursed through the room, followed by an explosion of cheering and boisterous backslaps. Max found the news unsettling. Shouldn't he be happy over the capture of "the most dangerous man in all of Germany?"

  
The General allowed the room to settle a bit before continuing. "The Fuhrer has waited long for this prize, we mustn't spoil it now in our jubilation." Von Baer paced the front of the room, a jaunty spring in his step. "After I leave, you must all remain here in this room. Major Bergmann," the riding crop waggled dangerously close to Bergmann's nose, "You will wait a full five minutes before returning to your office." Bergmann nodded his head up and down emphatically. "The next man will wait five minutes before exiting, and then the next another five, etc. etc."

  
Von Baer must have recognized the look of confusion on Max's face, for he explained, "Nothing must appear amiss. Papa Bear's contacts must have no knowledge he has been compromised. We will use this opportunity to whisk him away to Berlin, and perhaps plant a little subterfuge of our own!" The General chuckled with delight, slapping his riding crop against his own knee for a change.

  
"And now I must take my leave of you. Continue on with your excellent work protecting the Fatherland from such wretched filth as that Papa Bear and those cowardly saboteurs who prefer to fight from the shadows. Heil Hitler!"

  
The room leapt to attention, each officer falling over himself to properly salute the grand and glorious General von Baer as he gallantly strode from the conference room. The General's sudden departure extinguished the oppressive tension of the day. Everyone spoke at once, giddy to be cleared of any implications or accusations of treason. Major Bergmann looked ready to weep great tears of relief. Max simply remained collapsed against the closed door, silently congratulating himself for reaching it in time to open it for the General.

  
The five minutes passed slowly. The room grew quieter and quieter as the clock ticked towards the first deadline. At last it was time for Major Bergmann to leave. With a deep breath and confident smile, Bergmann marched from the room. 

  
Max began to settle in for another long wait when he heard the strangled cry of a dying cat. Concentrating on the pitiful sound, Max realized it was no cat, but Major Bergmann calling his name over and over. "SCHWEITZER!"

  
Skidding into the Major's office, Max first noticed it was completely cleaned out. There was not a single piece a paper left in the room. He looked to Bergmann who stood reeling in the center of the room, opening and closing his mouth like a fish gasping for air. 

  
The prisoner! Max ran to the back of the building where Hans Bricker was being detained. No guards were anywhere in sight and the cell door was slightly ajar. Peering in, Max was not terribly surprised to see the room completely empty save Franz's satchel tossed in the corner.  
  
Lost in a fog, Max somehow made it back to his desk. He ignored the quiet weeping coming from Bergmann's office, and sank defeated into his chair. Unable to formulate any subsequent course of action, Max spied General von Baer's coat still hanging on the coat rack by his desk. Despite knowing the General was long gone, Max grabbed the coat and dashed outside clinging to the implausible idea that perhaps he could catch up to him.

  
Max barely reached the middle of the street when a thunderous explosion threw him to the ground, debris raining down all around him.

  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  


Relatively unscathed, Max stood across the street doing nothing more than watching as rescue workers and fire fighters dashed to and fro, struggling to contain the bonfire that was once the Kampfgruppe Bergmann Headquarters. He'd been relieved to see Major Bergmann had managed to escape the burning building. Bergmann now sat rocking back and forth, pouring out his soul to their slightly scorched potted plant.

  
So intent on the disaster, no one noticed a large staff car roll to a stop in front of Max's new base of operations. It took Max a moment to recognize the General. He was no longer wearing the eye patch, and his smiling eyes matched a broad grin on his open and friendly face. 

  
"I believe you have something of mine?" His brain moving in slow motion, Max finally connected the General's comment with the coat he still clutched tightly in his hand. While handing over the coat, Max took a moment to peek into the car. The small Captain sat impatiently at the driver's seat, though he looked much happier than he'd appeared inside the headquarters.

  
Max smirked to see the ex-prisoner Hans Bricker laughing and clapping his brother Franz on the back. For his part, Franz was completely engrossed with the raging inferno across the street. There was also fifth man Max was barely able to make out, hidden in the shadows in the back seat. Max looked back to the General, whose brown eyes twinkled with impish delight.

  
"Auf Wiedersehen, Lieutenant," he waved as the car peeled away from the curb.

  
Max felt a smile spread across his face for the first time that day.

  
"Auf Wiedersehen, Papa Bear."   
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Author's Note: I have to give credit where credit is due. A while back I'd stumbled across a little anecdote about a French spy (sorry, I can't remember his name!) who barged into a Concentration Camp claiming to be hunting for himself, and ended up walking out with an armful of secret papers. The whole scenario screamed Hogan's Heroes, and I just had to make up my own version of it. Hope you had fun reading it! _  
  



End file.
